When the column of flames cleared, Olivander was left looking at a very naked, but unharmed, teenager. He was lying in a pile of molten slag.
“Whoops. I did not mean to burn away your clothing.”
The boy looked down, then covered himself quickly.
“You burnt off my clothes. You melted my armor! That was my dad’s armor! Why, why would you do that?”
“You are better off without it. Besides, you wanted me to remove it. Now, let's go kill some goblins.”
“I asked for help! Not for you to completely destroy it! You really want me to go in there to fight goblins naked?”
“I never learned how to conjure clothing properly, but with the way today is shaping up, I might do that at my next available opportunity. But, yes, to answer your question. The ward on you should last a full day. It can absorb more damage than all of the goblins in the country could deal to you in that time.”
Oddly, his words didn’t seem to comfort the young man.
“I don’t even have a sword anymore! You melted that too!”
“A sword? That I can conjure.”
A brilliant blue blade manifested in Olivander’s hand.
The boy’s eyes grew wide when he saw the description of the weapon.
----------------------------------------
Blade of the Frozen Magus
* Weapon: Conjured Sword
* A blade made from conjured ice. It’s very cold.
* Deals frost damage with every blow.
* Increases frost resistance of the wielder.
----------------------------------------
“Amazing…” he said, breathlessly.
“Now, what is your name?”
“Gregory, sir. Gregory of Demering,” he said, taking the sword with reverence.
“Very good Gregory, my name is Oliv…Olly? No that’s horrid. Vander? That just makes me sound like some sort of villain, “ Olivander said, falling into contemplation. It wouldn’t do for his enemies to know about his whereabouts, now that he was out of a position of power. It was true that he didn't have many enemies, but a little caution never hurt. He would keep his identity close to his chest, but he hadn’t thought about a new one yet.
Gregory just stared at him with a confused look on his face. Then he started, remembering he was naked. He ran off with Olivander’s sword.
Olivander watched him go, but he was still busy trying to decide on a potential new identity.
Gregory stopped running and bent over next to a boulder, where his pack had been tossed earlier. He rummaged around and pulled out some extra clothes that his mother had convinced him to bring with.
Clothed and at least somewhat comfortable, he ran back to Olivander. Gregory was young, but not so young that he should have been afraid of a lesser goblin. Not so young that he couldn’t carry around that heavy armor he had been wearing. He was fairly tall, with messy brown hair, matted with sweat, and had the dark desert complexion that was common to most of the residents of Demering.
“Let me ask you, Gregory. Have you ever heard of the Arch-magus of the Queen?” Olivander asked. Maybe he could just use his real name if he wasn’t well known this far out of the capital.
“Oh boy do I. Amegnon the Just is a living legend!” Gregory said happily.
Olivander sighed. How did people all the way out here already know about Amegnon becoming Arch-magus? He tried to not let his annoyance show when he thought about Amegnon. He still wasn't ready to confront that can of worms.
“What about the Arch-magus before him? Ring any bells?”
“Sorry, sir. I never knew his name. Maybe I heard it in a history class, but all I remember is that he was a bit of an asshole, if you’ll pardon my language.”
Well, Olivander couldn’t blame him for being right. He was an asshole. But that was one of his most endearing traits.
“Very well, you may call me Olivander.”
“Of course, Olivander.”
Olivander clapped his hands together, eager to get started, so that he could eat sometime this century.
“Now, let’s see. We need to get enough money for food, and probably some new clothes for both of us. Maybe two, three silver?”
“Twenty or thirty goblins?!” Gregory was awfully skeptical such a thing was possible.
“We had best get started.”
* * *
Inside the mine, Olivander did his best to suppress several groans as he watched Gregory attempt to ‘fight’ his way through the tunnels. The sword he had given Gregory dealt additional damage, and it was the only reason he hadn’t been overrun yet. The boy lacked any kind of finesse or, quite frankly, knowledge about fighting.
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“Keep your sword high, Gregory. Don’t let them flank you. Don’t overcommit to a strike when you’re outnumbered.”
His advice didn’t seem to be helping Gregory at all. On the other hand, the ward that Olivander had cast on Gregory was helping immensely. He was able to make slow progress on their goal.
Olivander had dismissed all the wards he kept on himself after the first two goblins had been reduced to ash before Gregory had a chance to attack them.
“What’s your class Gregory? With the armor you were wearing, I was expecting some kind of heavy fighter. Not…whatever all this is.”
Gregory scratched his head sheepishly.
“It’s a little embarrassing, Olivander. I’d rather…not?” he winced as he said it, remembering the inferno he had been subjected to outside.
“That’s cute, but I don’t really care. Reveal!” Olivander said, casting a spell to show him hidden information.
Gregory of Demering
Age: 19
Race: Human
Level 1 (73%)
Combat Class: Coward (Common)
Non-combat Class: None
Health: 50/50 (Shield 146025)
Stamina: 15/30
Mana: 0/0
Strength: 7
Dexterity: 5
Constitution: 6
Wisdom: 4
Intelligence: 5
Skill Points: 0
Skills:
Cower
Abilities: None
Spells: None
Olivander studied Gregory’s status. There was nothing remarkable about it. He had a terrible starting class, but that was not so uncommon. The cower skill was somewhat interesting, as it was fairly rare to awaken a skill from a common rank starting class.
Gregory looked like he was about to die. His face was bright red and he stared at the ground.
“It’s okay, you can say it.”
“Hmm?” Olivander said, breaking his investigation of the status.
“Everyone says it. ‘Wow Gregory, the Coward class? How pathetic. Is that the best you could do?’ It’s humiliating,” Gregory said. He sat on the ground in the middle of the tunnel and looked ready to cry. “I’ll never be a knight.”
“Let me tell you something Gregory. Your class can influence you, but it doesn’t limit you. You may be a steaming pile of horse dung right now, but with hard work, someday you’ll be a little less awful.”
Gregory’s brow furrowed.
“You really are not making me feel better, Olivander.”
“I’m not your mother, Gregory. Come along now. There are more goblins who need what’s left of their brains bashed in.”
* * *
The pair fought their way deep into the mine. Well, Gregory fought his way deep into the mine. Olivander followed behind him, occasionally giving him pointers, but mostly just inspecting the strata of the stone by the light of the torches that lined the passages.
“What did they mine in here?” Olivander asked. “I don’t see anything worth digging out of the ground.”
“Demerite. It’s a gemstone named after the town! This mine went dry before I was born though. You can still find them, but the new mines are so much more productive that it doesn’t make much sense to dig in here.”
They paused so Gregory could fight another goblin.
Olivander rolled his eyes and gently kicked the goblin off of Gregory, who had tripped and fallen after his first swing, allowing the goblin to pin him down and attempt to cave his head in. Gregory got up and managed to finish off the goblin.
“Thanks.”
“I know it was a surprise, finding a rock on the ground…in this mine, but maybe watch your footing.”
Gregory picked up the rock, and threw it at Olivander. The rock entered a small portal, then came out behind Gregory, hitting him in the back of the head.
“Ouch!”
“That, Gregory, is karma.”
“That is not karma!”
Gregory grumbled and rubbed his head. They carried on down the tunnel.
They emerged into a large open room. The tunnel they were in was raised above the ground level, and a set of sturdy wooden stairs led down to the floor of the cavern. On the ground floor level, there was a single goblin near a huge pit, pulling up its pants. The room smelled absolutely awful.
“What is that smell?” Gregory said, looking ill.
“Goblin shit. It appears we found the bathroom.”
“What? How do you know that?”
“Experience, my boy, experience,” Olivander said, pointing at the pit. “I know a shit hole when I see one.”
“What do we do? Should we just go?”
“Of course not. A little adversity builds character. And I see ten copper standing down there waiting for your sword.”
The lone goblin hadn’t noticed them. It was standing next to a table, but they couldn’t see what it was doing.
Gregory looked immensely unhappy, but he nodded and trudged down the stairs.
Olivander followed behind, conjuring some small wads of wax to plug up his nose.
Gregory steeled himself, trying to shake the smell out of his nose. This was the last goblin. They should have enough ears to turn in back at the guild hall to get a nice reward. Gregory might even earn his copper badge! It was something he had almost lost hope of gaining.
With a roar, Gregory charged at the goblin.
Olivander watched Gregory day dream, then finally pull himself together and charge the goblin. He had roared, which was a great way to ruin a sneak attack. The goblin had somehow not heard them coming down the steps. Or maybe just assumed they were another goblin.
Gregory raised his sword as he ran, ready to slash through the goblin.
To Olivander’s surprise, when the goblin turned, it’s eyes went wide and it yelled.
“Wait! No!” the goblin yelled.
Olivander snapped his fingers.
The sword Gregory had been about to swing vanished. His balance was ruined, and he slipped. He tumbled end over end past the goblin and straight into the pit.
Olivander winced. That smell would not be coming out.
The goblin had a wild look on his face, glancing between the pit and Olivander.
“Oh Gods! WHY!?” Gregory’s voice called up from the pit.
“Hang in there, Gregory. I’ll pull you out in a minute.”
“A minute? Why are you waiting? Get me out of here!”
“Character, Gregory.”
Gregory’s response was somewhere between a moan and a sob.
Olivander walked forward, and icy chains appeared around the goblin’s ankles before it could run.
“Now, who are you?”